


Mona Lisa Wear Me Out

by cophinetrash101



Category: The 100, clexa - Fandom
Genre: Clarke is technically underage but she's 17 and Lexa is 18 so I'm not using the archive warning, F/F, it'a mostly smut, since it's not a major age difference, this is really bad, with a little fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 05:37:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11098020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cophinetrash101/pseuds/cophinetrash101
Summary: 17-year-old Clarke Griffin doesn't see why she needs a babysitter when she's practically an adult herself. However, the woman her mother hires, 18-year-old Lexa Woods, finally manages to bring her around to the idea.





	Mona Lisa Wear Me Out

**Author's Note:**

> This is so terribly written and somewhat OOC anyways be warned. Also, yes, the title is inspired by The Ballad of Mona Lisa.

Clarke's mother hadn’t always been so strict. When Clarke was little, Abby had been happy to let her wander around to her heart’s content, armed with nothing but a sketchbook and pencil in her chubby toddler fingers.

After her father died, it was a different story. Abby would barely let her out of her sight anymore. She was strict, overprotective, scared. So it didn't come as a huge surprise to 17-year-old Clarke when her mother insisted on hiring a babysitter while she was away.

However, that didn't mean she wasn't going to put up a fight.

“Mom, I’m 17! I'm not a little kid anymore!”

“I know how old you are, Clarke, but that doesn't mean I'm not still your mother. I am allowed to be concerned for your safety.”

“I can handle myself just fine without some stuck-up college girl living in my house!”

“You'll barely even have to see her, Clarke. She has classes during the day and she'll be sleeping in the guest bedroom at night. You can pretend she isn't even here.”

“Why doesn't she do me one better and not come at all?”

“Clarke.” Abby looked at her daughter with an expression that she knew meant the conversation was over.

“Fine” Clarke huffed, giving up. She resigned herself to the fact that is was just going to be a bad week.

Abby smiled.

“I'll leave you money for pizza. You be careful, Clarke, okay?”

“Sure, mom.” 

Abby gave Clarke a peck on the cheek and went to open the door. Tossing a final look over her shoulder, she walked out.

~

Clarke had just tossed her book bag onto the table when the doorbell rang. Sighing, she went to answer it.

When she opened the door, a thin, brown-haired girl stood in front of her. She was the same height as Clarke, but other than that she looked nothing like her. Her soft-looking hair was tied tightly in a bun and her tan skin brought out strikingly green eyes and pursed red lips. She looked intelligent, classy, sophisticated. She was beautiful, and nothing like the sorority girl Clarke had expected.

“Clarke?” The woman's voice brought her back to reality. “Clarke?”

“Oh, sorry. Yeah, that's me. You're…-?” 

“Lexa” the brunette smiled.

“Lexa, of course. Come in.” Clarke moved to the side, realizing she was blocking the entrance to the doorway.

Lexa walked in through the front hall and to the kitchen, silently taking in the room. Clarke followed her, unsure of what to say.

“So… you go to Columbia, right?” she asked finally, breaking the silence.

“Yeah” Lexa nodded. “I'm a freshman.”

“So you're 19?”

“18. I skipped junior year of high school.” 

“Wow.” So Lexa was only a year older than Clarke- and already in college.

“So, your mom said I could stay in your guest room?” she asked, turning to face Clarke.

“Yeah. Um, follow me.” Clarke lead Lexa to the guest bedroom, which looked like a display out of a furniture magazine.

“Thanks” the brunette smiled politely at Clarke. She went into the prim, nearly kept bedroom and Clarke took the few steps across the hall to disappear into her own.

~

A few hours later, when the pizza that Clarke had ordered was delivered and paid for, the two girls sat down at the table together. After eating a few bites of the greasy food, Clarke tried to start a conversation. If this woman was going to be living with her for a week, they might as well talk.

“So what's your major?”

“Marketing, sales and international business.”

“Isn't that like three different majors?”

Lexa shrugged.

“Whatever it takes to be successful. What about you? Do you have a major in mind yet?”

“I'm thinking art.”

“You do art?” 

Clarke nodded.

“Mostly paintings and charcoal. I can show you some if you'd like.”

“Sure.”

Once the two girls finish their meal, Clarke leads Lexa into her art studio. It was one of the concessions that Abby made to her after forcing her to switch to a private school. Inside, she had easels set up displaying half-finished works, canvases stacked on every surface, multi-colored paint splattered on the floor, and a wall filled with a mural she was particularly proud of. When Lexa entered the room, her jaw dropped. 

“These are incredible, Clarke.” 

Clarke couldn't help but notice how beautiful the brunette looked admiring her work. The way the fading evening light hit her, the angles of her face, the soft wonder in her eyes.

“Can I ask you something?” Clarke asked, the words spilling out of her mouth before she could change her mind.

“This is sort of a strange question, but- would you be willing to let me paint you?” Clarke's face turned red as she waited for a response.

“Sure” Lexa responded, brushing off the awkwardness of the moment. “Where should I stand?”

“Right there is fine.” Clarke turned to open the drawer with her paints and brushes, stumbling as she returned to her easel. She set to work, choosing a fine-tipped brush, outlining the sharp curve of Lexa’s jaw, the graceful slope of her nose, the delicate swoop of her cheekbones. She blended shades to attain the right shade of green for her eyes- lights and darks and a fleck of yellow here and there.

“Could you let your hair out?” Clarke asked, not looking up, too immersed in her work. Lexa obliged, untwining the band from her hair and letting it fall in soft locks down her shoulders. Clarke swallowed hard when she looked up to see Lexa again- she looked like a goddess. When her eyes met Lexa’s, she quickly looked back to her canvas, blushing. She moved her brush in soft waves for hair, mixing colors again to get the perfect combination. An hour or so passed in silence, Clarke looking back at Lexa every few minutes to detail some new feature of her face. When she finally finished, Clarke grinned, turning the easel around so that Lexa could see her work.

“It's amazing” Lexa said, walking closer to Clarke to get a better look. “It's- it's beautiful.”

“Thanks.” Clarke was painfully aware of how close she was to the brunette. Lexa turned her face, just the slightest movement, and suddenly they were looking right at each other. They stood like that for a moment, the tension between them tangible. She didn't know who leaned in first, but before she knew it their lips were touching, gently, softly, sweetly. They kissed each other with more and more force until they were crashing together. She ran her tongue along Lexa’s bottom lip, and the brunette gladly parted her lips, allowing Clarke entrance. Lexa tasted like cheesy pizza and cinnamon- an odd combination, but not unpleasant. Lexa clutched at Clarke's shoulders trying to maintain her balance, running her hands down to Clarke's waist. Clarke pulled her mouth away for a moment to look into Lexa’s eyes. They were dark and hooded, full of lust.

“Do you want to go to the bedroom?” Clarke asked, voice deep. Lexa nodded. Without warning, Clarke hoisted Lexa’s legs around her waist and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. With strength that Lexa never would've guessed the younger girl possessed the blonde whisked them up the stairs, not stopping until she deposited Lexa onto the neatly made bed.

Lexa looked up at her, feeling just how exposed and vulnerable she was and loving it. 

Clarke climbed on top of the brunette, kissing her on the mouth while her hands traveled elsewhere. They felt down her sides, her waist, beneath her shirt. Clarke ran them up Lexa’s sides beneath the fabric of her shirt, relishing in the feeling of her smooth skin against Clarke's. She moved one hand to rest over Lexa’s lacy bra, looking up at Lexa before continuing. Lexa nodded, holding her breath. When Clarke gently pinched her nipple through the fabric, Lexa let out a moan. Clarke grinned. She moved her hand under Lexa’s bra, feeling her soft flesh. 

“Take it off” Lexa whined. Clarke smirked. She pulled her hands away to rest them at the hem of Lexa’s shirt, dragging it up slowly and teasingly, looking at every inch of exposed skin as if she could devour it. Lexa swallowed, fighting the urge to pull Clarke's face down to her breast, grinding her legs together to relieve some of the tension that was building there. The expression on Clarke's face made it obvious that she had noticed the movement. She tugged the shirt over Lexa’s head, tossing it aside, and reached behind her to unclasp her bra, which met the same fate as the shirt. She moved her hands to rest on Lexa’s hips and places her mouth on Lexa’s hardened nipple. Lexa moaned, and Clarke bit gently on the pink flesh in response. She soothed it with her tongue, repeating this action several times before moving on to her other breast. Her hand slip up to knead at the abandoned breast, squeezing it gently. When Clarke noticed Lexa's hand tugging at her shirt, she sat up to pull it over her head and unclasp her bra all in one smooth motion. 

She leaned back against Lexa, her own breasts pressing against her skin creating a heavenly sensation. Clarke slowly moved her free hand downwards, stroking the skin of Lexa’s stomach, admiring her toned muscles, all the way down to the waistband of her skirt. She moved her fingers along Lexa’s waistband, smiling at the way the brunette whimpered underneath her. She moved her hand further down, underneath Lexa’s short skirt, to feel how wet she was. Lexa gasped when Clarke’s hand touched her through her panties, and Clarke grinned. Even through the fabric she could feel that Lexa was soaked.

The blonde moved her hand to the side of Lexa’s panties, dipping her finger in to touch Lexa skin-to-skin. She stroked her fingers down Lexa’s folds before pulling it out. The loss of contact didn't last for long, however; Clarke quickly pulled Lexa’s underwear down her legs and kicked them aside. She placed her hand directly on Lexa’s sex as she listened to the brunette mutter out curse words. She slid one finger into Lexa’s folds, surprised at how easily it went in.

“You're really wet for me” she whispered into Lexa’s ear, biting softly at her earlobe. 

“Mmhhmm” Lexa replied, guiding her hand to Clarke's to show the blonde what she wanted. She curled her finger slowly inside of Lexa’s wetness, loving how Lexa felt around her. She added another finger, increasing her speed inside of the brunette.

“More” Lexa whimpered. Clarke added another finger and started kissing down Lexa’s neck, her stomach, her neatly trimmed dark curls. She took Lexa’s clit in her mouth and moved her tongue around slowly. Lexa silently screamed as Clarke sped up the rate her fingers and tongue moved, until her walls started to clench around the woman on top of (and inside) her. The blonde eased her through her orgasm, slowing her pace until she pulled out of Lexa. She licked the brunette’s wetness off of her fingers as she looked up at her. Lexa gulped, body still weak from coming.

Clarke waited until Lexa had regained her strength to guide her hand down to the waistband of the blonde’s jeans. Lexa unbuttoned them slowly, hand shaking, and pulled them down along with Clarke's underwear. Clarke looked at her, face gentle and soft, as Lexa slid a finger into Clarke's folds. The blonde gasped; she had been starved for the contact. Lexa added a second finger and then a third. It only took a few curls to her g-spot to make Clarke come- she had already been so close from making Lexa orgasm. Clarke collapsed on top of the brunette, laying her head on her chest.

“You know, for my babysitter, you aren't very responsible” the blonde remarked softly.

“I’m not really your babysitter” Lexa punched Clarke's arm gently. “I’m-”

“My muse?” Clarke asked teasingly. “My inspiration? My Mona Lexa?” Lexa chuckled, and Clarke buried her head into the older girl’s neck, drifting silently into sleep.

Maybe it wasn't going to be such a bad week after all.


End file.
